


The Art of the Deal

by Noelle12



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:31:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelle12/pseuds/Noelle12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JPC, canon except for SE, 10 years later</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**John Paul**

Today I woke up and it was an ordinary day or so I thought. I begin by getting myself some coffee only to realize that my roommate, Jared has used the last of the milk. So typical of him. I love him and hate him in equal measures. Things have changed over the past ten years since I left Hollyoaks for London. After Kieron’s death and the subsequent church explosion that my big ‘brother’ Niall or should I say Matthew masterminded, I needed a change. I left the village quickly afterwards and headed south.

I wanted to learn a skill, giving up my DJing in search of a new beginning for me. I think I didn’t want to bring any remnants of my former life with me. I stumbled upon welding and worked in construction for awhile, which led me to where I am now, the owner and main artist for a gallery that specializes in metal sculptures. All those years spent behind the welding torch led to some great creations and the realization that I had a talent to take useless pieces of metal and sculpt them into works of art.

My studio is downstairs behind the gallery and the loft I share with Jared is just above. Jared has been a great mate to me over the years. We met on a construction site. He is a carpenter specializing in woodwork. I’d say he was my best friend, but I’ve only ever had one of those and no one will ever be able to fill his place. Even though I haven’t seen him since that fateful day at the airport, he’ll always hold that place in my heart.

I had heard about his adventures in Scotland and tried to reach out to him afterwards, but the damage done by Niall had taken its toll and he never responded to me. Well the past is the past. I haven’t heard much about him from any of my family. Apparently, he hasn’t been seen in the village either since he came back with Steph after the Scotland incident. It doesn’t escape my attention that I live a short walk from Dean St. and that I also head over to St. Anne’s occasionally on Dean St. to light a candle for Kieron. I think he would have liked that. I still feel responsible for his death all these years later. If only Niall hadn’t been a total psychopath.

Like I said, a normal day as I shower and get dressed. I end up picking up coffee and a newspaper at the café across the street. Then back to the gallery to open up for the day. Metal Art Works JPMQ is the sign over the window. I specialize in metal pieces that could be large sculptures or wall hangings. There are also smaller sculptures for shelf or desk display as well as mobiles. I take commissions as well as the ones I make just for pleasure and sell in the gallery.

I take a seat in the small sitting area in the gallery. I have a nice view of the street and can watch the pedestrians as they hurry on their way to work. The advantage of living and working in the same space is no commute to work. Being my own boss means having no one to impress and if I want a day off, I take one. I was inspired at some point during the night by a dream I had and once my coffee is done, I head for the studio to begin another piece.

 **Craig**

I’ve been in London for a little over a year now. The company I had worked for in Dublin decided to relocate to a bigger market and so I went with them. It wasn’t a hard decision. I didn’t really have anything tying me to Dublin. I loved the city, loved uni and was hard pressed to find anything wrong with it. But I thought the change of scenery would do me good. And it did. Coming back to England, landing in London, even though it wasn’t ‘home’, I felt like I had come home.

I found a nice flat close to work and all the amenities. I even met a nice girl, Katarina. We’ve been dating for awhile now and I can tell she’s getting antsy to go that one step further of either getting engaged or moving in together. But I’m just not ready to make that commitment. I thought I was at one time, but that was so many years ago.

I try not to think about him, but he’s always with me even after all this time. The day he left me at the airport ripped my heart out and I haven’t been able to replace it since. I heard he had moved on not long after I started uni, but his lover died, had been murdered.

I wanted to reach out to him, let him know I was still there, but the time and the distance was too great. I didn’t even know his sister had died in that church explosion. My family hid the news from me. And then his ‘brother’ tying me up and trying to kill me was a little too much to deal with at once. I know he tried to contact me, but I was in too much turmoil to respond and then time stretched out and years had passed before I realized it was too late.

My company has expanded to the point where we’ve outgrown our old offices and have taken over some space on Pall Mall near St. James Square. They’ve decided to do up the new offices in a new modern décor and have put me in charge of the art work. I have no idea why. It’s not my job. Give me numbers and a spreadsheet and I can evaluate what a company is worth and if we should buy it, invest in it or scrap it, but I know nothing about modern art. But it’s a challenge and there is nothing I love more than a challenge.

I decide to head out during my lunch break and get an idea of what our local artists have been producing. My boss has given me a budget and color schemes and why am I doing this again? That’s right, he is an evil man who thinks I have taste. But he would be sadly mistaken.

I hit a few galleries wandering about really not having a clue what I’m looking at. Why would someone think these splots and blotches consist of art? I mean I could probably paint something like that myself and not charge anywhere near that amount. I’m almost tempted to call Kat to come and give me some help. But I really don’t feel like dealing with her right now. I decide to make one last stop before heading back to the office. I’ve wandered quite a bit out of the way. But I’ll just tell Jim that I was out doing his bidding if he gives me crap about taking a long lunch.

I can see through the windows of this place that they specialize in metal sculptures, maybe that’s the modern edge they’re looking for.

I enter the brightly lit white room setting off the bell to alert someone of my presence. I stop just inside the door to see which way to head first. Each piece is expertly lit and bathed in light that shows off the details. The house music that is coming from the sound system gives the place a very modern feel and brings me back to a place many years ago, listening to my best mate mix the tracks on his decks. I shake my head trying to displace that particular memory.

 **John Paul**

I hear the bell go off at the door. Shutting down the welding torch, I strip off my safety mask and gloves making my way out to the showroom from my studio. I think my heart skips a beat when I see a man standing there. He’s half turned from me, but it can’t be him. This is just a guy who looks like him. Dark hair, slender build, wearing a suit. It can’t be him, can it?

“May I help you?” I ask walking over to where this man is admiring a wall hanging of a ship. He turns quickly at the sound of my voice and his eyes suddenly go wide. My heart starts pounding sending the blood rushing too quickly around my body giving me a head rush.

“John Paul?” He questions.

“Craig.” I breathlessly respond. We stand and stare at each other. He looks good. The past 10 years have been good to him. He still has that full brown hair swept back from his face, a slight trail of stubble over his chin and the deepest most soulful brown eyes. I feel like I could lose myself there forever. What is he doing here?

 **Craig**

I hear a voice and I get transported back 10 years. It’s not the voice of the boy who left me at the airport. It’s the voice of a man. I’ll never get that sound out of my head. I turn quickly and he is standing there in a dirty tee shirt with his coveralls tied carelessly around his waist. He’s wiping his hands on a rag as he walks over to me, but stops dead in his tracks when I turn to him. I can see the color drain from his face as he realizes that I’m here. He looks older, but not in a bad way. Time has sharpened his features making him more handsome and mature looking. His eyes are just as blue and his hair is still such a blonde perfectly styled mess. I wonder what he’s doing here looking like the janitor.


	2. Chapter 2

**John Paul**

We stand and stare at each other. I finally find my voice, “Cr-Craig, what are you doing here?” Stumbles ungraciously out of my mouth sounding as confused as I feel.

He chuckles a bit and rambles out a nervous answer, “Looking for some pieces to decorate our new offices. My cheapskate boss thought I’d be up for it instead of hiring a decorator. So I’ve been wandering around just looking for something that would fill the space.”

I laugh at his nervousness, “No, I meant in London. I-I thought you settled in Dublin.”

He snorts out a nervous laugh and rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah, yeah. I had, but we moved our offices to London about a year ago.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Yeah. Well what about you? What are you doing here?” He asks enthusiastically.

“You mean here in this building or here in London?” I answer with a question.

“Both. I mean, I haven’t heard anything of you in 10 years.” A reminder, which causes a pain to emanate deep within my heart. I don’t like to think back on how I came to be in London. The pain of Kieron and Tina’s deaths drives a stake through my heart and I quickly change the subject.

“Would you like a drink? Tea perhaps?” I ask diverting his attention.

“No, I haven’t drank tea since…” And the light from his eyes quickly dies and he leaves the sentence unfinished.

“Coffee? Oh shit, there’s no more milk. I do have some water or orange juice.” I offer.

“No, no thanks. I, I should get back to work.” He says thumb hooking towards the door.

“No, please stay. Ten years, man. Come here.” I say and walk over to him and hug him, his arms come up and envelope me. I breathe in the familiar smell of Craig. We stand for a moment just past the point of matey and break away. “How the hell you doing?” I ask him taking a step back.

“God damn, I heard you joined a cult or something.” He says jokingly.

“No money in it.” I answer shrugging my shoulders.

“Says you.” He remarks and shuffles his feet a bit.

“Look at you, you’ve gone respectable.” I say indicating his suit and tie.

“You know, I stopped pouting on the sidelines and got in the game. You know, joined the working weak.” He murmurs loosening his tie.

“Wow, that’s great. Ten years though.” I say again.

“Yeah, 10 years. What’s this outfit about?” He asks pointing out my coveralls.

“Have a seat. I think we need to catch up.” I offer.

“So what are you doing here… in this building? Sweeping floors?” He asks with a laugh once we’ve settled in the seating area.

“Uh, no actually, I own it.” I tell him.

“You own an art gallery?” He questions for clarity and looking slightly impressed.

“Yup.” I nod in assent.

“What about your DJing?” He asks.

“I left that behind me.” I explain.

“But you loved it.” He defends.

“Yeah, but it just hurt too much.” I say then deflect back at him. “What about you? What’s the suit for? Running a million dollar business yet?”

“No, I actually appraise businesses for investment. You know, decide how much a business is worth before deciding whether my company should invest in it or not.” He explains.

“That sounds glamorous.” I comment.

“It’s not.” He responds.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re here. I mean I tried contacting you a few times.” I say sadly.

“I know.” He responds without offering an explanation.

“I’m sorry about the…” I trail off pointing to the scar on his face.

“Oh.” He answers running his fingers over it. “It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda was.” I say.

“No! It wasn’t. You couldn’t know what he was up to.” He practically shouts at me.

“I should have killed him when I had the chance, but mum...” I say and trail off leaving that particular thought unsaid.

“What?! You’re not a killer, John Paul.” He scoffs at that.

 **Craig**

I don’t really understand what’s happening here. It’s been 10 years. Ten fucking years and we’re picking up like nothing has happened as if time and distance have no meaning to us. We quickly drop the Niall topic and our conversation flows as we reminisce about our year together. The times we had a kick about in the park, bunny bowling, playing pool at the Dog. We stay away from painful subjects and fill in the odd bit or piece of our years spent apart. The afternoon quickly fades away as we talk.

“Hey, JP, look what I got.” A man announces rushing through the door. He’s holding up a bag in one hand and has a bloody rag wrapped around his other hand. He looks like one of those models and I’m kind of in awe of him. He has this serious shaggy messy black hair and piercing green eyes.

“I hope that’s milk.” John Paul remarks as this man comes and joins us in the sitting area.

“Oh shit. No, I forgot the milk.” He answers apologetically.

“Jared, what the hell did you do to your hand?” John Paul asks him concerned grabbing the bloody rag.

“It’s nothing. I cut it on the saw today.” Jared dismissively explains.

“Weren’t you wearing gloves?” He asks while unwrapping the wound.

I clear my throat as apparently my presence has been forgotten.

“Sorry, Craig, this is Jared, my roommate. Jared, this is Craig, a friend from Hollyoaks. All right, this needs to be cleaned out. I’ll get something to clean and wrap it with.” John Paul says standing up and leaving me with this Jared.

“So, Craig, you knew JP in Hollyoaks, huh? What’s with that crazy family of his? I swear I wake up in the morning and there’s some McQueen woman or other sleeping on the couch?” Jared asks.

“Um, well, I don’t know. They are quite a force to be reckoned with.” I answer warily.

“Yeah, they are quite a handful. What was JP like as a lad?” He asks. “He doesn’t talk about it much. I was hoping you could shed some light on the mysterious JP.”

“Well, we were best mates back then. But I went off to uni and we kind of lost touch after that.” I explain and a look of realization comes over his face then, just as quickly, disappears.

“Give me your hand.” John Paul demands when he comes back. “Why didn’t you have gloves on?” He chastises Jared while swiping the disinfectant over the wound.

“I was feeling the wood, you know, trying to get a sense of it.” He explains.

“Then what would have happened if you sliced a finger off?” John Paul demands as he wraps dressing around the wound.

“I would have packed it in ice and headed for the closest A and E.” Jared replies.

“Arse.” John Paul complains.

“What about you, Mr. Safety-by-the-book? How many scars you got on your hands from the sparks because you need to feel the metal?” Jared huffs trying to turn the tables.

“Shut up, this isn’t about me.” John Paul remarks.

“Metal?” I ask after witnessing the exchange between them.

“Yeah,” Jared answers. “He doesn’t know about the metal work?” He asks John Paul.

“It hasn’t come up yet.” John Paul answers sheepishly.

“You made all these?” I question looking around the room.

“Yeah.” He answers shyly.

“Wow, John Paul, these are really good.” I stand up and walk over to a sculpture of an eagle landing. My eyes wash over the fine details of the feathers and the talons. I spot the mark JPMQ stamped into the metal and turn to look at him. He’s watching me as he places the last bit of adhesive on Jared’s wound.

“Jared, go away.” John Paul says.

“Don’t you want to see what I’ve got in the bag?” He pouts.

“I only want to see the back of you as you go get some milk.” John Paul hisses at him.

“I really have to go. I can’t believe I didn’t make it back to work. Jim is going to be so pissed off tomorrow.” I say realizing that I completely blew off work.

“Oh, okay. It’s been great… today I mean… we should get together.” He suggests.

“Yeah, definitely. Give me your number and I’ll give you a call.” I offer. I switch my phone on and there are 10 messages, shit. We exchange numbers and a quick good bye hug before I head to the door. “This stuff really is great, John Paul, you’re really talented.”

“Thanks, Craig, see ya.” He says following behind me.

“Yeah, see ya.” I say and head out into the evening air. I turn back once to see him still standing in the doorway watching me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Craig**

I walk home covering the distance without even realizing where I’m heading or how I get there. I’m just… stunned, is that the right word? Devastated? Elated? Possibly massively confused is the emotion I’m looking for.

It was great seeing John Paul today. I was completely surprised by how different, yet the same he is. My heart felt like it was going to burst when he hugged me. All the flood of emotions came rushing back to me. And I realize that seeing him today has brought back what’s been missing all these years. The passion I used to have. Where had that gone? I didn’t even notice until I gazed into those blue eyes and saw the passion there.

I know there are messages from work and messages from Katarina on my phone, but I really can’t process what this all means right now. I survey my flat. It’s a bit ordinary, but it’s me. I flip through the post like I would any other ordinary day. But today was anything but ordinary, wasn’t it?

I shed my suit and tie changing into a tee shirt and pajama bottoms. I grab a quick bite to eat and settle on the couch in the sitting room ignoring the ringing phone while I try to sort my whirring mind out.

Have you ever had your heart broken? Wait, not just broken, but ripped out and shattered into a million pieces. Well, it hurts, really hurts. A pain so deep and raw that nothing can heal it. The day at the airport left me emotionally bereft. The devastation can kill you or it can make you stronger. In my case, it made me dead inside. I was determined to never have that happen to me again.

I worked hard in uni. I got a job and worked hard at that too. I worked hard to have relationships, but they never lasted. The women I dated always wanted more than I was willing or able to give.

I tried to get past it. I tried getting over him. I tried running away from him, but he was always with me… still is.

I can remember the taste of him, the smell, the way he touched me and the way I touched him. His hands running down my chest, the soft kisses to my neck. His hand wrapped around my cock… which is now my hand wrapped around my cock as I stroke myself, thrusting into my fist. I can remember his lips and his tongue as he would lick me up and down. I continue to pump my fist faster remembering the gentle teasing and probing of his fingers and I cum hard and fast spilling my seed over my tee shirt.

What do I do now? What do we do now? Does seeing him again mean anything? Does it have to mean anything? Should I just walk away this time sparing the pain of watching him walk away like last time?

 **John Paul**

I close the shop door after I watch Craig turn the corner. And slide down the wall next to it.

Jared comes back and finds me on the floor. He urges me up the stairs and makes me a cup of tea. Apparently, he’d brought home takeaway and was now in the process of reheating it as I watch from the kitchen table.

I’d say our loft was ordinary, but it’s hardly that. Jared has handcrafted most of the furniture and everything is an original one of kind. Whenever I made a piece that I particularly liked, I always found a home for it in here, unable to part with it. So, there is an abundance of metal art scattered throughout also.

“So, that was him.” Jared states and all I can do is nod as he presents me with a plate of food. I really don’t feel like eating, but I know Jared won’t let me get away with that.

“He’s a good looking bloke.” Jared continues. And I nod again.

“Why did you two split up again?” He asks, like he hasn’t heard the story enough.

“You know why.” I retort, angry at his prying question.

“Humor me and tell me again.” He says.

I heave a huge sigh because just finding the words to explain is extremely difficult.

“He wasn’t ready to be with me.” I state tersely.

“O-kay, what about now? Do you think ten years later, he might be?” Jared asks. And to be honest I hadn’t even thought about it.

“That’s just it. He’s not here for me. Who knows what he’s ready for? He could be married with kids for all I know. We didn’t exactly broach that topic.” I say sliding the food around my plate.

“Ah.” Jared says knowingly.

“What?” I ask staring at him annoyed by all his sudden insights into my heart and my life.

“I see. So you’re unwilling to try unless you know he’s single and available and ready for you.” He says like a guru imparting some ancient knowledge.

“Jared, I just saw him for the first time in ten years, I’m hardly going to jump back into a relationship with a man when I have no idea if he even wants that.” I say exasperated. I jump out of my seat and head for my room. I don’t want to hash this out with Jared when I haven’t even given proper thought to what it all means.

I fall down on the bed wallowing in my self pity. I made the decision to walk away. I made the decision to leave him. I ignored the text he sent me at Christmas. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. I was tired of living in his closet. But over the years, I realize it was the worst decision I’ve ever made and something that I have regretted ever since.

I tried moving on. I tried to get over him. But whenever my heart got close to another’s, I balked and pulled away. No one could replace Craig Dean in my heart. No one even comes close.

Seeing him today has brought back all of those old feelings. The memory of his fingers sliding over my skin, his hands caressing my face just before he’d kiss me. The taste of his skin when I’d trail kisses down his neck and across his collar bone. The scent of him, the pure masculine scent of him that conjures up our most intimate moments that have replayed over and over in my mind in the intervening years.

I peel off my coveralls lying on the bed in my boxers and tee shirt. My hands wander as I recall the way we would come together in those stolen moments. I can remember the weight and feel of his cock as I would stroke him until he cried out my name in the blissful pleasure of his orgasm. The way his face would contort and the beauty mark above his mouth as his lips quivered. Oh my God, his lips. The last thing I recall as I cum hard and fast over my tee shirt.

What do I do now? What do we do now? Does seeing him again mean anything? Does it have to mean anything? Where do we go from here?


	4. Chapter 4

**Craig**

I think I sleep. I’m not really sure. My mind was still awhirl from seeing John Paul. The alarm rings and I only hit snooze twice. I drag myself to work after a burning hot shower. I’m actually ten minutes early, but as I attempt to tiptoe past Jim’s office, he catches me and calls me in. Crap.

“Dean, how nice of you to join us this morning.” He greets me. I just nod. “So, what exactly happened to you yesterday?” He inquires. I search my mind, I should have planned an illness or something, but I decide the truth works just as well.

“I, uh, went out, doing what you asked me to do.” I start and he nods along with my story. “I went to a gallery over in Soho and wouldn’t you know that the guy who owns it was my best mate back in school.” I swallow deeply, then clear my throat. “I hadn’t seen him in ten years and we kind of lost track of time catching up.”

“It took you all afternoon to catch up?” He asks searching my face to see if I’m telling the truth.

“Yup.” I nod my assent trying my best humble look.

“Fine, did you see anything you liked out there?” He asks.

“Yeah, my mate’s gallery specializes in metal pieces.” I respond.

“That sounds different. Good then. But I’m taking you off the art work search. I think Brian might be better suited for it.” He states.

“Wh-what? B-but…” I stutter while a wave of emotion hit me, things like shame and failure.

“I think this is right up Brian’s alley.” Jim explains.

“Brian?” I ask.

“Yeah, have you seen what he’s done with his space? It looks great. Plus he’s a homo and you know they all have taste in decorating.” Jim sounds like a bigoted prick.

“That’s just a stereotype.” I say taking offense by his remark.

“But in this case, it’s true. So make sure you give him the details, so he can check out the gallery.” He says with a cheeky grin.

“B-but…” I try to interrupt not sure I’m more appalled at being pulled from the job or that I have no excuse to see John Paul again or that Brian, the magnet, is being sent there.

“Brian will handle it, now get to work.” Jim concludes dismissing me.

Fuck, I trudge to my desk. If I thought coming to work was going to distract me and calm my thoughts a bit, I was sadly mistaken. Settling in at my desk, I open up my emails first, deciding to deal with voice mail later. I have too many emails from Katarina to count. They start out light and sweet and then grow more and more worried and desperate. I type off a quick reply apologizing for making her worry and then begin to deal with my job.

 **John Paul**

I think I sleep, but when the alarm rings in the morning, I feel like I’ve gotten no rest at all. I drag myself out of bed and stand under the hot spray of the shower attempting to rid myself of the weariness that seems to have settled into my bones. I have a lot of work to catch up on today, a few commissioned pieces that need to be ready for delivery tomorrow.

Jared is usually up and out early in the morning, so at least I don’t have to worry about any sympathetic looks or comments from him. I plod down the stairs, flip on the lights and unlock the door. I do enjoy my commute to work though.

After taking a quick tour of the room, everything seems to be in place, I head into the studio to finish off the commissions. I work with gloves damning Jared the whole time. I have to admit the best part is the welding torch. Once the pieces have been aligned and perfected and ready to meld, I love watching the sparks fly off the torch as it bonds the metal together and brings my vision to life.

I’m putting the finishing touches on when the chime goes off over the front door. I turn off the torch and strip off the gloves. I realize the time and think, it can’t be…

Heading out into the showroom, there is a man about my height in a suit, definitely not Craig though, with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

“May I help you?” I say after approaching him.

“I hope you can. A colleague of mine was in here yesterday. He said you have some interesting pieces.” I process this information. It must mean that he works with Craig because he’s the only one who came in yesterday. “I’m Brian by the way.” He says sticking out his hand.

“John Paul. Nice to meet you.” I say shaking his hand that he clings to a bit longer than necessary. “What are you looking for?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” He says with this charming smile and I can’t help but laugh.

“Why don’t you take a look around and see if anything strikes your fancy?” I offer.

“I think something already has.” He comments, leering a bit in my direction. I laugh again. He’s just so… I don’t know… charismatic that it doesn’t come off smarmy and I resist the urge to giggle and bat my eyelashes at his obvious attention.

“So you’re friends with Craig Dean.” He says switching topics. I bite my lip trying to respond, are we friends? Or were we friends?

“Yeah, we were, back in school.” I explain cautiously.

“Hmm, so he said this morning. He said you have some nice pieces in here.” Brian comments.

“That was kind of him. I also take commission work if there is something specific you need.” I respond.

“I don’t think it will come to that. These are definitely interesting though.” He says surveying a standard wall hanging of the sun.

“Thank you. Well, let me know if there’s anything you need.” I offer.

I watch him as he walks around the showroom. He examines the pieces on display pausing every now and again to inspect something or another. He’s rather nice looking, trim, but with broad shoulders. His navy suit hinting at a fit body underneath.

He turns to me after a quick rotation through the room and turns to look at me. “These pieces are marvelous.” Brian compliments me.

“Thank you.” I respond with a slight blush.

“I was wondering…” and he trails off.

I cock my head at him quizzically, “Yes?”

“If you were free for dinner tonight?”

 **Craig**

I can’t believe that bastard made me give Brian the information. I was going to conveniently forget the details, but Jim practically stood over me until I wrote it down. And I wouldn’t be able to get out of it by not remembering since I had spent all yesterday afternoon there.

Argh, I need to stop freaking out. Brian wouldn’t chat him up would he?

Of course he would, who am I kidding? John Paul is exactly his type.


	5. Chapter 5

**Craig**

I eat lunch at my desk telling myself that I should be making up some of the time I took off yesterday, but really it’s because I’m waiting for Brian to return from visiting John Paul. I keep a close eye on my office doorway watching the comings and goings of co-workers as lunchtime passes by and still no Brian.

I turn back to my computer and realize there’s an e-mail from Katarina. She wants to go out to dinner and talk about our future. She’s not the type to beat around the bush, so some major schmoozing is in order. I guess completely flaking on her yesterday has left her a bit insecure. Fuck, could this day get any worse?

Spoke too soon as I see Jim heading straight for my door and he does not look pleased.

“Dean, what the hell is this?” He asks waving some papers about.

“I-I don’t know.” I respond as I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“The numbers for Vandelay Industries are completely off.” He explains. “I just got an earful from Mr. Vandelay cursing me and my descendants about this.” He says slamming the papers down on the desk in front of me.

“Oh… oh…” I kind of stammer. I worked on the numbers this morning. I was a bit distracted, but I thought I was on track. I pick up the papers scanning the numbers quickly. I cross reference the amounts with the research I had saved onto my computer. “These are right.” I say confidently showing him the projections from my research. “Mr. Vandelay just has an overinflated sense of his company’s worth.”

“That little… sorry, Dean. I can’t believe that jerk called me and chewed me out. Who does he think he is? He can’t talk to me like that. E-mail me this stuff and I’ll straighten him out.” Jim quickly backtracks and exits my office.

I quickly send Jim all the info and when I look back up Brian is standing in the doorway.

 **John Paul**

I smile bashfully at Brian thinking over his offer, but remembering the pile of metal in the studio that needs to be welded and finished by tomorrow. “I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. I have some pieces that need to be finished for delivery tomorrow. Maybe some other time.” I answer him.

“Sure. Some other time.” Brian agrees readily. “How about Friday then?”

“Sure, why not?” I find myself answering before I can stop my mouth from responding. Why can’t I think before I speak?

“Around 7:00?” He offers, “Arbutus over on Frith Street.”

“Sure. I know where it is.” I answer. “7:00, see you then.”

“Perfect. Well, I really need to get back to the office. I’ll give my boss my recommendations and come back to make a deal on the pieces that are interesting.” He explains.

“Sure, sure. Thanks.” I answer.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, John Paul.” He says pronouncing my name with a French accent, which has always pissed me off. What have I gotten myself into?

“Nice to meet you too.” I respond.

 **Craig**

“Can I help you?” I greet Brian as he grins at me from the doorway.

He takes my question as an invitation to sit and elegantly settles into the chair facing my desk. He clears his throat like he’s about to make a huge proclamation.

“So, I met your friend John Paul.” He announces pronouncing it Jean Paul, which irks the crap out of me.

“Yeah, and?” I say appearing disinterested, but really dying to know what happened.

“He seems very nice.” Brian responds leering and smirking like the total twat he is.

“So…?” I inquire.

“We’re going out on Friday.” He proclaims grinning like it’s a victory, which causes my heart to plummet about 30 stories. Fuck! Brian is a real knob, the love them and leave them type. For the past five years that we’ve worked together, I don’t think he’s had a relationship that lasted more than a month.

My cell phone rings at this very opportune moment. I look at the display and it’s John Paul. My stomach flutters and my heart starts to pound. I hold up my finger to Brian indicating that he should wait and then answer the phone.

“Craig Dean.” I say.

“Craig, thank God you answered. Listen I need Brian’s number. I made a date with him for Friday and then he called me Jean Paul. I can’t go out with a guy who thinks I’m French for God’s sake!” He verbally assaults me over the phone.

“Hold on.” I say not taking the phone away from my ear. Speaking to Brian, I say, “I’m surprised John Paul agreed to go out with you,” Over enunciating the John. “because he has plans with Katarina and I on Friday.”

“What?!” I hear over the phone.

“What?” Brian asks.

“Yeah, yeah. We made plans yesterday to have dinner on Friday.” I lie casually to Brian. “So, maybe you should reschedule with John Paul. Excuse me. I have to take this call.” I say dismissively and wait until he leaves the office. I close the door behind him.

“John Paul?” I ask wondering if he hung up.

“Yeah?” He answers sounding timid, or hurt or something not quite like himself.

“Good, you’re still there.” I say relieved.

“What was that all about? Who’s Katarina?” He asks still sounding off.

“I figured since Brian was here, I would help you out a bit.” I explain.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” He responds sounding relieved. “But you haven’t answered my question.”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “Katarina is my girlfriend.”

“Oh.” He responds sounding small. “And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“Well, I… I… it just didn’t come up.” I stammer rubbing the back of my neck. “So, how about dinner Friday night?”

“Sure, can’t wait to meet her.” He says lightly. “I’ll bring Jared. He’s always up for a night out.”

“Oh… okay.” I respond disheartened.

“Well, I really have to get back to work.” He hurriedly says. “But thanks again.”

“Me too and no problem. Glad I could help, Jean Paul.” I say, which causes him to laugh.

“Bye.” He says.

“Yeah, bye.” I reply.


	6. Chapter 6

**John Paul**

I’m standing in my boxers in front of my closet lamenting the fact that I have absolutely no fashion sense at all. Jared comes bounding through the open door and plops himself on my bed.

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” He asks accusingly.

“I have nothing to wear.” I complain.

“There’s plenty of stuff in that closet.” He responds looking over towards the closet.

“I don’t wanna go.” I whine dreading this evening of fake pleasantries and being nicey nice with Craig’s girlfriend.

“Too bad, sunshine. Suck it up and act like the big boy that you are.” He chastises me.

“Why does he have to have a girlfriend?” I grumble.

“I don’t see why that’s a problem. Didn’t he have a girlfriend the last time you two got together?” He asks with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Yeah, but we’re adults now.” I say. “It’s different.”

Jared snorts at this statement. “When have you ever been an adult?” He asks.

“I have my moments.” I declare.

“Yeah, whatever.” He says while rolling his eyes. “Come on let’s get you dressed. We can’t send you out to dinner in just your boxers. Although Craig might appreciate that approach.”

“Shut up.” I say laughing at him.

Jared rifles through my closet selecting a nice blue button down shirt and flat front black slacks for me. Not my usual look, the trousers are saved for the occasional church visit as I usually wear jeans or coveralls to work. I can kind of see what Jared means about not exactly being an adult.

“There, now you look perfect.” He says after I get myself dressed. “What are you going to do with your hair?”

“Oh my God! What’s wrong with my hair?” I exclaim running for the mirror in the bathroom.

“Nothing.” He says coming in behind me. “If you’re going for the sheepdog look.”

“Oi, I’m not a shaggy dog.” I retort.

“Here.” He says wetting his hands at the sink and then running it through smoothing out the cowlicky ends.

“I really don’t wanna go.” I whine again.

“Come on. It won’t be that bad. What’s the worse that can happen?” He asks.

“He’ll be in love with her and all over her and it’ll break my heart.” I say sadly.

“Okay. Well, that would be bad. Would it help if I pretended to be your boyfriend?” He asks sincerely.

“No, don’t be stupid. I just need my friend to pick me up at the end.” I answer.

“Done. Come on, Prince Charming. Let’s go get your princess, er… uh, prince. You know what I mean.” He says pushing me towards the door. “Get your fat arse moving.”

“I am not fat.” I say indignantly.

“Yeah, whatever.” Is Jared’s witty retort.

 

 **Craig**

I get to the restaurant early and am led to a quiet booth. I settle in keeping an eye on the door just waiting. I sip my water and rearrange the cutlery. Nervous as to what this night is going to bring.

Finally, I see John Paul enter the restaurant. I can’t take my eyes off him as he approaches the table. John Paul is smiling warmly at me. We shake hands like the adults we are and I greet Jared as they settle into the booth across the table from me.

“So, Jared, how’s the hand?” I ask politely.

“No problems. Nurse JP here has fixed me up quite nice.” He replies chucking John Paul on the shoulder.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” John Paul retorts, which causes Jared to laugh.

“You’re so sexy when you’re angry.” Jared replies cheekily.

I just sit back and watch them banter back and forth and it makes me feel, sort of, out of place. I don’t even realize Katarina has arrived until she slides into the booth and kisses me on the cheek. John Paul’s eyes narrow at the gesture.

I make the introductions and then things get bizarre.

“John Paul, Jared, this is Katarina.” “Katarina, John Paul and Jared.” They shake hands with her and a knowing glance passes between them. A sudden silence descends over the table. John Paul is glaring at Katarina. Jared is staring up at the ceiling. Katarina is fiddling with her napkin and cutlery. And I have no idea what’s going on.

“So,” I say attempting to break the uncomfortable silence around the table. All eyes turn to me. “Uh, so how’s the job, Jared?”

“Fine.” He answers monosyllabically.

“That’s good.” I say a little confused at the sudden shift in mood, turning to John Paul. “How about you?”

“Yeah, work’s fine. Finished the pieces I needed to get delivered on time. And, yeah, it’s going well.” He trails off looking at Katarina.

“What about you Kat-arina?” He asks her pausing in the middle of her name.

“Yeah, work’s fine.” She agrees. “Jay, uh, John Paul, you’re an artist right?”

He rolls his eyes at her, “Yeah, I’m an artist. You should drop by the gallery some time.” He offers.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.” She says, which causes Jared to snort.

Thankfully the waiter comes over and interrupts the witty conversation we’re having.

After giving the waiter our drink order, Jared gives Katarina a scathing look and excuses himself from the table.

Katarina continues to fiddle with her napkin not looking at me or John Paul then excuses herself leaving the table too.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” I explode once she is out of ear shot.

“What?” He responds dumbly.

“You’ve been glaring at Katarina since she sat down.” I continue. “What’s the problem? Are-are you jealous?”

He gives a quick snort. “No… yes… maybe, but that’s not what this is about.”

“Then explain it to me.” I say calming my tone.

“I… it’s really not my place to tell you.” He explains.

“What? I mean I could understand if you were jealous of Katarina... I’m a bit jealous myself.” I admit.

“Of who?” He asks perplexed.

“Of Jared, duh. He’s obviously your best friend.” I say a little hurt to have been replaced.

“Oh… He’s not my best friend. I only ever had one of those.” He says carefully looking me in the eyes.

“Oh.” I respond spirits soaring.

“Yeah oh.” He responds wistfully

“What the hell did you expect, John Paul?” I accuse. “You left me. You. Left. Me.” I say enunciating each word. “Why did you leave me?” I ask tears welling up in my eyes.

 **John Paul**

I’m startled at this question. I wasn’t expecting it. If I’m honest it hurts too much to think about. My chest constricts and I swipe my hands over the tears that leak from my eyes. “I… I was young and... and stupid and convinced that you were ashamed to be seen with me.” I say gulping down the lump in my throat. “I know it doesn’t make it any better, but I’ve regretted that decision every day of my life.” I say with my voice cracking at the end.

“You said you’d be there for me.” Craig accuses.

“I know and I’m sorry.” I say meekly.

“It’s a little too late for sorry.” He angrily retorts.

“I know, but I am anyway.” I plead grabbing his hand. “I tried, you know.” I start. “I tried to contact you.”

“I know.” He responds sadly.

“It hurt. Hell, it still does.” I say grasping his hand tightly.

“I know. It hurts me too… still.” He agrees.


	7. Chapter 7

**John Paul**

He untangles himself from my grasp.

“Stop… just stop.” He pleads with me.

I withdraw sinking back against the cushion. I pick up the menu to mask the hurt on my face.

“What looks good here?” I ask changing the subject.

He leans over the table and plucks the menu out of my hand and tosses it aside. “You left me, John Paul.” He says again.

“I know…” I start again.

Katarina chooses this moment to return to the table. Her eyes are all red and her nose is puffy. I pick up the menu again to hide behind.

“What’s the matter, hun?” Craig asks her when she slides into the booth.

“Oh… oh, nothing.” She answers, which causes Craig to cock an eyebrow at her like she’s lying. “Well, there was this plant in the restroom and I think I’m allergic to it and I don’t have any medication in my purse. So I was just gonna go home and take something and lie down.” She explains rambling a bit nervously.

“Let me walk you home.” He offers.

“No… no. You stay and catch up with your friend.” She says smiling sadly at me. “Good bye, Craig.” She says kissing him softly on the cheek.

“Good bye, JP.” She says sliding out of the booth.

“Good bye, Kat.” I respond. Craig watches her as she walks out the door.

“Why did that feel like she was saying good bye forever?” He muses out loud. I wonder if he’s waiting for a response. But then he continues, “Why did she call you JP?” He asks staring at me intently.

Thankfully the waiter interrupts us placing four drinks on the table. “Are you ready to order, sirs?” He asks and we wave him off telling him to come back later.

“I wonder where Jared got off to.” I say as I begin to rise from the table.

“Oh no you don’t.” Craig says grabbing my arm before I can get up. “You are going to explain how you know Kat and why it’s a big secret from me.”

“How long have you and Kat been dating?” I ask.

“I dunno, maybe a year.” He answers a little unsure. “Why does that matter?”

“Okay. Kat and I have had breakfast a few times in the last couple of months...” I begin.

“So?” He interrupts.

“So… let me finish.” I take a deep breath. “Just remember I am telling you this as your friend and not as a jealous ex-lover.”

“Just tell me.” He seethes between clenched teeth.

“She’s been seeing Jared off and on, and when she stays over, we’d end up having breakfast together because Jared leaves for work so early in the morning.” I squeeze out all in one breath.

“Wh-what?” He asks not quite comprehending what I’m saying.

“Kat and Jared have been seeing each other.” I state simply for him. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying you’re sorry.” He observes, “I don’t believe it.” He says stunned. “Why… why would she do that to me?” I just shrug my shoulders letting it all sink in.

 **Craig**

We both sit there. John Paul is watching me, waiting for… for something. But I don’t feel anything. Is that right? A year long relationship down the tubes like that and I don’t feel anything. That can’t be. I can’t believe this has happened again. Why do they cheat? Am I really not enough for anyone that they have to go elsewhere? Of course I feel something. It’s not so much the loss of Katarina. It’s more like another woman letting me down and crushing my self esteem. They always walk away, even him.

I see Jared as he approaches the table and I go to confront him, but John Paul notices the change come over my face and beats me out of the booth intercepting Jared and speaking to him before he can reach the booth. I sit back leaning into the cushion and drink my drink, then I drink Katarina’s drink watching John Paul as he talks to Jared just out of ear shot. I can see him put a comforting hand on Jared’s shoulder as he leans in to speak to him. The scene is so intimate, a scene between two friends. And I feel completely left out of his world. Why isn’t he comforting me? It’s my girlfriend who was cheating on me with that… that guy.

Jared turns to leave looking at me apologetically and John Paul sits down across from me again. He looks at me with concern in his eyes.

“Are you all right?” He asks tentatively.

“No, I am not all right.” I seethe at him.

“Calm down.” He responds.

“I’m hurt… I’m angry… My girlfriend cheated on me with my ex-lover’s flatmate. And you want me to calm down?” I hiss.

“Sorry.” He says again.

“Please stop saying that.” I plead.

“You want to order some food?” He asks

“Nah, let’s pay for these and find a proper bar to get drunk in.” I suggest feeling a need to get away from my latest scene of heartbreak.

“Sounds like a plan.” He agrees throwing some money on the table to cover the drinks.


	8. Chapter 8

**John Paul**

An hour later, we find ourselves slouched in a back booth at the local pub.

“…and another thing,” Craig drunkenly slurs, “they’re always cheating on me.”

“I’m sure not all of them.” I drunkenly try to reassure him.

“Oh yeah… well… not all, but enough to make me go, hmm, must be something wrong with me.” He laments.

“Psh, there’s nothing wrong with you. You… you’re perfect.” I say with conviction.

“Y-you say that now, but…” He says trailing off.

“What?” I ask waiting for him to continue.

“N-nothing.” He says eyes looking everywhere but at me.

“Come on, tell me.” I prod jabbing a finger into his side. “You can say anything to me.”

“I wasn’t enough for you either.” He explodes.

“Oh… oh no! You were, Craig. You were. I was just too stupid to realize it.” I try to convince him.

“You were never stupid.” He pronounces.

“Yes, there was this one day in September of 2007 when I did the most stupid thing of my life and let you leave without me.” I exclaim.

“Do you ever get over it?” He asks changing the tone quickly.

“What?” I ask confused at the new direction.

“A broken heart.” He answers.

“Nope, you just learn to live with it.” I sigh.

“What about you?” He asks.

“What about me?” Again confused by the change of topic. The alcohol has left my brain a little slow as I try to grasp onto what he’s saying.

“Well, you don’t have a boyfriend.” Craig says, “Why not?”

“I don’t really want one…” I begin and then stop as my thoughts sort themselves out, “Wait, that’s not true. I date. It’s just… I don’t know… none of the guys were the right guy.”

“How do you mean?” He asks watching me intently and making me squirm in the spotlight.

“I mean, there was always something missing.” I try and explain.

“Like what?” He asks with the directed look again.

“Well, sometimes there was no passion… or there was no friendship… or we were just not right for each other.” I clarify.

“I wonder if that’s why she did it.” He muses aloud.

“Who did what?” I ask confused again by the shift.

“Kat, because she wanted more than I was willing to give.” He responds.

“It could be a reason.” I agree and then laugh, “We’re a right pair.” I say and he laughs too.

Craig raises his glass to his lips and tilts it. Then realizing it’s empty, he asks, “Another round?”

“One more and then we have to get something to eat.” I agree.

“Ooh there’s a chippy right near my flat. We can stop there on the way home.” He says before he walks to the bar.

The word home hits me hard. He wants to take me home. Calm… breathe… I remind myself. We’re just two mates out on the lash. Nothing else tonight. Just hanging out and trying to drink away a broken heart. I’m not sure whose heart we’re trying to forget, mine or his…?

 **Craig**

We finish our last round at the pub and head out to the chippy for some fried foods that I will definitely regret tomorrow. I pull John Paul along as he drunkenly stumbles behind me. Even though I’ve found out my girlfriend has been cheating on me, I think it’s been a top night with my best mate at my side helping me drown my sorrows. But I’m not really that sorrowful as I realize it’s the most fun I’ve had in ages.

I stop suddenly in front of the chippy and John Paul runs into my back. “You’re drunk.” He whispers and then giggles into my ear causing a shiver to run down my spine.

“We’re here.” I announce throwing my arms wide and almost hitting John Paul.

"Where’s that?” He asks.

“The chippy.” I state.

“Excellent. Food.” He grunts like a Neanderthal.

We go in and order and almost get thrown out for shoving each other while we’re waiting for our order and I suppose we were talking a little louder than non-drunk people would talk, but we get our food and head to my flat on the next block.

We settle in on the floor of the sitting room. John Paul waves a chip around punctuating his sentences with it. It’s something so stupid, but I really missed the simple gestures.

“So, what do you reckon Manchester’s chances are this year?” He asks.

“You’re not still supporting them are you?” I question his loyalties.

“Of course.” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“After the last few shit years they’ve had?” I ask.

“You just don’t give up on something because of a few shit years.” He comments.

“Yeah, well you did.” I say quietly, under my breath, but he hears me anyway.

“Fuck, Craig! Are we back on that?” He huffs. “I was about to take the greatest leap of faith in my life with a guy who wouldn’t even touch me in public.”

“John Paul…” I try placating him.

“No, save it! It’s been pretty clear how we got here. Maybe we should leave it here.” He says getting up to leave and walking to the door. I jump up and follow him as he opens the door. I slam it shut.

“No, no! Don’t go. I don’t want you to go.” I exclaim chest heaving, scared out of my mind that if he walks out the door, I’ll never see him again.

He smiles at me as a tear spills down his cheek. “I think I remember you saying that to me once before.”

“I meant it then and I mean it now.” I respond.


	9. Chapter 9

**John Paul**

I just stare at him incredulously. “Wh-…” He has rendered me speechless.

“Because you’re here.” He walks away breaking my gaze and paces through the sitting room. “Tonight has been one of the best nights of my life because you’re with me.” He stops across the room rubbing the back of his neck and captures me in his stare. “Don’t you get it?” He asks.

I shake my head, unsure.

“It’s you… it’s always been you.” He whispers breathlessly voice filled with emotion.

That’s all it takes for me to launch myself at him. “I’ve spent the last ten years of my life wondering what it could have been like.” I tell him before I pull him into the most intense kiss I’ve ever felt in my entire life. It’s like a reawakening of my senses. I’ve never felt so much in one kiss. We’re needy and desperate and searching. Reconnecting long lost neurons in my brain, electrical pulses shooting throughout my body telling me that this is what I’ve been searching for. This is my other half, my, dare I say, soul mate.

Our tongues caress magically, mixing the heat of passion with the warmth of comfort. He pulls back from me leaning his forehead against mine.

“I have missed you so much.” I whisper breathlessly. I run my hands down his back. Just feeling him under my fingertips causes my heart to sing. Being back with my other half has repaired the damage my battered heart has taken since our last kiss. I love him. I know that much.

 **Craig**

My heart feels like it’s going to burst when I feel John Paul’s lips overtake mine. The kiss is right. It feels right, urgent, careless yet comforting and calming. He’s always made me feel like this. One minute I’d be freaking out and he would put the world into perspective for me, calming my fears. I pull back from him trying to catch my breath, chest heaving from the emotion he’s pulled out of me. I love him. I know that much is true.

I’ve never stopped. It was just so difficult to forget the things we’d done or said to each other. The beginning we had the first time around with all the lying and cheating and deceit is not the way I want to start this time around.

John Paul’s hands running up and down my back are distracting me. I reconnect our lips and our tongues battle it out. We grapple each other for control as his hands slide under my shirt. He falls on top of me on the couch and I push him off until we’re both on the floor.

Our coupling is desperate and needy as we come together ripping at each other’s clothes. I’m desperate to touch him again, feel his smooth pale skin under my fingers.

His hands are rough and calloused running across my back and up my thighs. Lost in the thrills and sensations, we climax into a heap on the floor.

 **John Paul**

“So what happens now?” He asks me as we lie together on the floor. Craig manages to grab the blanket off the couch and throw it over our cooling bodies.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Are you seeing anybody?” He asks. I thought we had been over this already.

“No.” I answer emphatically.

“Me neither apparently.” He says laughing humorlessly. “So, how does this work?”

“What?... You mean like dating?” I ask.

“Yes, what do we do now?” He answers with a question.

“Uh… we date. You…you do want to date me right?” I stutter nervously.

“Y-yes.” He agrees.

“Well, we do what normal couples do. You know, dinner, films, stuff, hang out. You have dated before, right?” I ask him cheekily.

“Don’t be daft. It’s just…” He trails off.

‘What?” I ask.

“I’ve never dated a man before.” He admits.

“We didn’t go out much did we back then?” I say.

“No, not really. So what about sleeping over? … Or… or living together?” He nervously puts out there.

“Whoa, slow down there, Speedy. Let’s try going out first and then we’ll worry about where we’re gonna live.” I offer.

“We were gonna live together once.” He says.

“Yeah, but we’re older now. We don’t need to rush into living together just to prove how in love we are.” I reason.

“Are we in love?” He asks shyly.

“I know I am. What about you?” I say and nervously wait for his response.

He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, me too.” And we come together for another soul searing kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

**John Paul**

I’ve invited Craig over for dinner. It’s a brand new start for us and I thought a home cooked meal away from the drama of last night would be where to begin.

Jared has agreed to make himself scarce. It’s Saturday night after all, so he was planning to go out on the pull anyway. I just throw him out a little earlier than usual, but he’s okay with that.

I spend most of the day cleaning up around the loft and am now fiddling around in the kitchen area checking to make sure everything is cooking properly and the table is set just so. I think ordering take away would have been the way to go, but I’m determined to make this meal.

I check the oven one more time and everything appears to be baking just fine in there when Jared pops in from his room.

“So, how do I look? Good enough to shag?” He asks arms spread out wide.

“Are you gonna wear that?” I ask trying to hide a smirk. Jared looks good in everything and he knows it.

“What?! What’s wrong with this?” He nervously asks.

“Nothing… if you’re going for the farmer look.” I tease him.

“There is nothing wrong with this outfit.” He huffs.

I hear someone coming in through the side door and clomping up the stairs.

“Who the hell is that?” I ask Jared wide eyed. He just shrugs his response when the colorful palette known as Michaela bursts through the door.

I watch her as she flounces in and plops down in a chair at the kitchen table.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Well, that was quite a welcome. But if you must know, my flatmate is having loud angry sex with her boyfriend and I needed to get out of there.” She explains huffing a bit. She spies Jared and her demeanor does a 180 as she smiles flirtily at him.

I beg him with a meaningful look to get her out of here.

“Michaela, lovely to see you.” He greets her pouring all of his charm into the words.

“J – J – Jared.” She wittily responds.

“You must come out with me tonight.” He puts on his pleading voice.

“Wh – what?” She asks looking confused. “What’s all this for?” She asks gesturing at the well laid table.

“I have a date coming over, so you need to get out of here.” I quickly explain.

“Oh, and what’s his name?” She asks curiously sweet.

“He doesn’t have one.” I answer.

“Nice, John Paul, I’m not the little gossip I used to be in school, you know.” She retorts.

I just shrug my shoulders in response.

“Ooh, I forgot to tell what I heard off Amy the other day.” She starts with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Uh huh.” I answer.

“Yeah, she ran into that Frankie Osborne at the Drive ‘n Buy and she said that Craig had moved to London almost a year ago.” She says proudly.

I just look at her.

“Well, aren’t you surprised?” She asks expecting a bigger response.

I make a quick recovery. “Yeah, yeah. Really surprised” I say with a half smile on my face.

“So, are you gonna try and find him?” She asks.

“Micks, that was a long time ago. Besides I have a date tonight.” I say grinning.

“Mick, let’s go.” Jared calls by the door.

“Bye, have fun.” I call after them.

“Bye.” Jared responds.

“That was well weird.” I hear Michaela say as they walk down the stairs.

 **Craig**

I approach the side door of the gallery when I hear voices coming towards me. I quickly glance around for a place to hide, but there is none and then the door bursts open as Jared quickly ushers someone out.

“Uh.” I greet them.

“Hi.” Jared responds nervously. “Go on up.” He says holding the door for me.

“Craig… Craig Dean.” I hear the girl say. I would know that voice anywhere.

“Come on.” Jared says dragging Michaela down the street.

“That was Craig Dean.” I can hear her say incredulously as she’s dragged away.

I slowly ascend the stairs clutching the bottle of wine I brought in a death grip. I really shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s John Paul for God’s sake.

I get to the door and lightly knock to have it thrown open moments later. He looks good, really good flushed from the heat of the kitchen. And the loft is stunning. Basically one open room with a kitchen area and a living area and huge windows overlooking the street. The table is set. John Paul pulls me into a hug and kisses me on the cheek.

“Glad you could make it.” He says.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” I respond handing him the bottle of wine.

“Cheers, hmm… good year.” He murmurs.

I laugh at that.

“What?” He asks with a confused look on his face.

“You know nothing about wine.” I remark.

“Yeah, but most people don’t know that.” He says smirking and turning a bit red at that.

He pulls out a corkscrew and some wine glasses. “Here, open that up for us.” He says placing them on the table. “Dinner will be ready in a few moments.”

I open the wine and pour out some glasses.

John Paul fills the plates and we sit down for a wonderful meal. Who knew he could cook? We eat and laugh and talk. It feels like old times yet somehow new and different all at the same time.

Once we’ve had our fill and I can barely move from stuffing myself. John Paul turns to me.

“Come on, I want to show you something.” He says holding out his hand.

“Oh, John Paul, I’m too full.” I complain.

“Not that, downstairs.” He responds rolling his eyes.

“Oh.” He takes my hand and leads me downstairs through the gallery and into the studio behind it. There are scraps of metal as well as tools and equipment scattered over every available surface. Winding through the maze of items, he stops at a clock hanging on the wall. It’s gorgeous in various colors of orange, red and yellow. The sun is setting into a fiery ocean as the hands are frozen in time.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“I made this for you.” He responds and I feel my heart skip a beat then resume with a thunderous bump.

“Wha… wha… when?” I stammer stunned and flattered.

“When I first started the sculptures, I couldn’t get you out of my head. It’s the sunset ending we were supposed to have all those years ago.” He explains.

I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes as he watches my response. And I blurt out the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever said, “The clock doesn’t work.”

John Paul chuckles, “It does. It’s been stuck at that time though.”

“What time is that?” I ask.

“It’s the time of the flight we were supposed to take to Dublin together.” He answers turning away from me.

I reach out and pull him around to face me. “It’s gorgeous.” I say breathlessly, pulling him in close. “Thank you.” And then I press my lips to his, wrapping my arms around him and just kiss him because I can after all these years.


	11. Chapter 11

**Craig**

John Paul breaks off the kiss and stares wonderingly into my eyes. His eyes flick to the left side of my face where the skin is a lighter shade indicative of the injury I endured years ago.

His hands come up and turn my face to the side and he lovingly kisses the slightly raised skin causing me to shudder. “I’m sorry.” He whispers in my ear when he pulls me in closer resting his chin on my shoulder.

I want to explode at him, rail at him that it wasn’t his fault. He had nothing to do with it. But all I can do is sink further into his arms and whisper back. “It’s not your fault.” Which causes a shudder to go through him.

“Craig…” He says plaintively.

“No… this was not your fault.” I respond on the border of anger. Has he been carrying around guilt for something that was not his fault for all these years?

“But Matthew…” He starts pulling away from me.

“Who’s Matthew?” I interrupt confused by the change in topic.

“The one who did this.” He responds gesturing to my face.

“No… Niall…” I correct him. Could we be talking about two very different things?

“Sh! Don’t say that name.” He reprimands me, like it hurts to hear the name.

“But… Ni-…” I start again.

“Please don’t say that name.” He pleads with me as he walks away. I follow him out to the darkened gallery where the light from the street lamps streaks through the windows casting elongated shadows from the various pieces in the room.

He finally stops in the sitting area in front of the windows. The street is quiet outside. I stop not far behind him when he starts to speak. “His name was Matthew.” Then he draws a deep shuddering breath. “He got to us all…” He says quietly.

I wait patiently for him to continue.

“He started with Michaela. He made us all think she was doing heroin.” He lets out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Then he slowly infiltrated our home, our hearts, our minds. That bastard!” He explodes balling his hands into fists.

The light casts harsh shadows across his face as I walk slowly to stand in front of him. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.” He states firmly.

“John…” I say.

“No!” He barks to interrupt me. “She stopped me.” He continues with that same quiet voice. I see a tear escape from the corner of his eye. He roughly scrubs at his face. “I was all ready… I had the candlestick in my hand.” He says staring me in the eyes, “And she stopped me… stood between us… she didn’t want to see one son kill another…”

“John…” I try to interrupt again.

“And then the statue started to wobble and he pushed us away. The next thing I remember was stumbling out of the church. If only I’d made sure he was dead.” He whispers.

His hands gently reach out to stroke the scar on my cheek. “If only.” He whispers again.

“John Paul…” I reach out, but he pulls away.

“It must have been horrible for you.” He continues as if he doesn’t hear me. I’ve lost my voice and he’s stopped talking. All I can do is look at him, see him for the first time in a long time. I can finally see the man he’s become, the burden he’s been carrying.

I reach out again grasping his hand this time. I pull him to the couch sitting him down and wrap my arms around him stunned at his strength and vulnerability.

 **John Paul**

I let the past come pouring out of my mouth. Things that had been bottled up for years, but I needed to tell him. He had to understand that I never meant for it to happen. I never meant to let Matthew get to him. Matthew was never meant to leave that church alive, but he fooled us all.

Craig holds me close as I release the past. The burden I’ve been carrying has finally been lifted off my shoulders. I lean my head on his shoulder and he begins to speak.

“I never blamed you.” He starts. I can feel his voice rumbling in his chest. “It’s not your fault that psycho followed us to Scotland.”

“But…” I try to interrupt.

“No.” He stops me. “It’s my turn. You couldn’t have killed him. You would have never been able to live with yourself if you had.” He reasons. “I never blamed you or thought it was your fault.” He says sighing. “Never.” He repeats.

His hand comfortingly runs up and down my arm and he squeezes me tighter into him. The feeling is so safe and secure. “I’m sorry.” He whispers into my hair.

“You’re sorry?” I ask pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah.” He swallows nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He closes his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he says again, “that I didn’t call you back all those years ago. I just didn’t want to relive it. I just wanted to forget.”

I watch the conflicting emotions flick over his face. “But you never do forget, do you?” He says sadly. I just nod my response, put my arms around him and hold him close.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I whisper into his hair.


	12. Chapter 12

**Craig**

We sit in the dark for awhile longer, just being together. Eventually, we make our way upstairs and into bed. We come together with a passion and desire that has been building over the years of separation. We let loose knowing that this could be it. That this could be the beginning of forever. Spent and totally satiated, we fall together limbs entwined and sleep the sleep of the innocent. I think it’s the first complete night of sleep I have had in a long time.

The light seeps through the blinds covering the window in John Paul’s room. It filters over his relaxed countenance and illuminates the blond of his hair giving him an angelic glow. I find myself watching him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the lips slightly parted. The lips that are perfectly formed for kissing.

I am startled by the door bursting open and the bright blond blur that comes hurtling through the room making her way to the bathroom. John Paul begins to stir. I guess this is the problem with his loft, the only way to one of the bathrooms is through one of the bedrooms.

John Paul turns his face towards me, “G’morning.” He mumbles a smile on his face.

“G’morning.” I whisper back then lean in to kiss the lips I was admiring not that long ago.

The bathroom door opens to reveal Michaela who greets us with an, “Ewww. Get a room.”

John Paul breaks the kiss, “Um, we have a room. What are you still doing here?”

“Cheers, John Paul,” She responds sarcastically, “I spent the night. Jared figured I was too drunk to make it home.” She quickly explains eyes darting between the two of us in bed. “So, you’re back.” She directs at me.

I just nod a response.

“Is there something you need?” John Paul asks her highlighting his exasperation.

“No… uh, no.” She stammers.

“Then get out.” He says roughly. Michaela huffs, turns on her heel and exits out of the bedroom taking the time to slam the door behind her.

He turns to me with an apologetic look on his face.

“I guess it’s time to get up.” I suggest.

“Breakfast?” He asks.

“Definitely.” I respond.

We both get dressed and head out to the kitchen. Jared is busy behind the stove making eggs, bacon and assorted mouth watering foods. John Paul gets the coffees and I join Michaela at the table.

“So, you’re back.” She states again.

“Yes, Michaela, and it’s lovely to see you too.” I greet her with sarcasm dripping, the only way to deal with Michaela.

“Amy told me you’d moved to London. But I didn’t imagine running into you here. How long has this been going on?” She asks eyeing me up and looking me over then glancing at John Paul who is busy pouring coffee into mugs.

“You want the easy answer or the hard answer?” I ask.

She shrugs as if not understanding.

“This has been going on ten years. But I just happened to stumble into the gallery last week.” I explain.

“Tell me all.” She says practically bouncing in her seat, probing for some gossip.

“There’s really nothing to tell.” I say. “I was looking for art work for our new office and I just happened to come across the gallery.”

“You tell the worst stories.” She complains.

I just laugh as John Paul passes me a mug of coffee. “Cheers.”

“Breakfast is served.” Jared declares with a flourish.

“It looks great.” I say to Jared catching his eye. He nods back. John Paul winks at me pleased with my cordiality. We all tuck into the glorious breakfast that Jared prepared.

Conversation turns to what Jared and Michaela got up to last night as Jared regals us with stories about Michaela and the things she did embarrassing her to the point where her face is pinker than her clothes.

After breakfast, Jared heads off to his room, Michaela settles herself in front of the telly, John Paul and I clean up the kitchen. Once we’re done, we join Michaela sitting on either side of her and proceed to carry on our conversation as if she’s not there, which really seems to tick her off.

“I get it already!” She shouts as she stands up and pulls on her boots and heads for the door.

“Finally gone.” John Paul sighs.

“Oh my God, look at that.” I say noticing something on the bookshelf in the corner.

“What?” John Paul asks trying to follow my eye line.

I get up and walk to the bookshelf and pick up the stuffed bunny that is seated on top. “Do you remember…” I start.

“Of course.” He nods. “Carmel’s been looking for that bunny for years.” He chuckles at his oblivious sister.

“You wanna play?” I ask. “We never did finish that game.”

“Of course.” He responds getting to his feet. “Do you remember the score?” He asks heading into the kitchen.

“Um… no, but I was definitely winning.” I state confidently.

“Oh, I think you’re memory is fading, old man. I believe I was winning.” He responds waving the frying pan and flipping it up in the air. “Just bowl the bunny, yeah?” He says taking up the position.

“No, I was winning. If I remember correctly, it was 10-7, me.” I argue.

“You’re daft.” He dismisses me.

“Oh, I’ll give you daft.” I state powering the bunny at him and he whacks it with the pan sending it flying over my head to the windows. I make a run for the bunny as he confidently rolls the frying pan handle between his hands. I retrieve it and he watches me expectantly, frying pan at the ready. I throw the bunny way off to his left and he misses it, which causes me to laugh.

“Cheater!” He squeals. I just smile back.

He lines up the frying pan again and I throw the bunny, but instead of hitting it, he drops the pan and catches it, then backs up towards the kitchen. I just stare kind of confused about what just happened. “You were meant to hit that.” I say.

He grins at me. “I know.” He says with a wink.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I call after him as he moves towards the bedroom.

“You want the bunny?” He calls teasing me holding the bunny by its neck and shaking it at me.

“Yes.” I say calmly, trying to lull him enough so I can make my move and get the bunny back.

“Come and get it.” He says grinning. “It’s right here.”

I slowly walk forward trying not to spook him. But it’s too late as he cuts and runs holding the bunny over his head. He runs into the bedroom and I’m right on his tail, but he moved so fast and then threw himself onto the bed where he is now lying nonchalantly.

“What the…” I say. I look around for the bunny not spotting it anywhere. I pounce onto his lap then shove my hands under his pillows feeling around for the bunny that mysteriously disappeared. He laughs a hearty laugh.

“You want the bunny, Craig?” He asks.

I roll off him and onto the other side of the bed pouting.

“Aw, he’s gone all sulky on me.” John Paul says teasing me again.

“Where’s the bunny?” I ask.

“It must have hopped off.” He answers. I huff at this answer.

“Come on, John Paul. It was my turn to hit. Where’s the stupid bunny?” I whine.

“It’s right here.” He sighs, then bends over me, and my heart rate increases as his body presses into mine. He leans over the side of the bed and pulls the bunny out from under the bed. I grab the bunny from him and throw it off to the side, then capture his lips in a kiss that leaves me with a promise of many kisses to come.


	13. Chapter 13

**John Paul**

Craig left late Sunday night stating that he had to sort some stuff out at his flat before heading into work in the morning. I tossed and turned all night remembering his presence and the memories of the best weekend I have had in a really long time.

The next morning things go as usual. Jared heads to work early and I get dressed and pop down to open the gallery and finish up a couple of pieces I’ve been working on. The morning drags as I find myself distracted thinking about brown eyes and strong arms. Around noon the door chime goes and I walk out to the gallery to greet my visitor who is chucking off his suit jacket.

To my surprise Craig rushes me pulling me into his arms while pushing me back into the studio. He kicks the door shut then forces me up against the door. The ferocity of his kiss and his urgent whispers overwhelm my senses as he grips my hips seeking my skin under my tee shirt.

“I missed you so much.” He growls into my mouth.

“Me too.” I gasp.

“I can’t get anything done at work.” He complains between hungry kisses.

“Me neither.” He pulls down my coveralls and boxers as I grab at his shirt sending a few buttons scattering across the floor.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He swears when I unbuckle his belt and his trousers drop with a clank. I nod in agreement.

“I didn’t sleep at all last night.” He complains spinning me around to face the door. His fingers gently trace the outline of my entrance then he deftly prepares me.

“I can’t keep doing this.” He says as he rolls the condom onto his rock hard erection. I groan in agreement.

“This can’t stop.” He vows lining himself up against my entrance.

“I love you!” He shouts slamming into me. I can’t verbalize anything as I press my palms against the door taking in every glorious inch of his cock.

“I missed you too.” I finally manage to utter between my gasping breaths. This spurs him on to drive deeper and harder punctuating each thrust with a word, a syllable, a whispered promise.

The ferocity of our coupling will leave physical evidence I won’t realize until later. Craig’s hand leaves my hip when he reaches around to grasp my aching cock. His pounding thrusts graze over my prostate causing an explosion in my body. I’m so close and a few fist pumps throw me over the edge into orgasmic heights that transform me into a gelatinous mess.

I only manage to stay on my feet by Craig’s grip on my hip as he gives a fierce growl and his final thrust where he bites down hard on the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He cums with an almighty shudder and slumps down onto me, which causes my cheek to slam into the door.

Funnily enough, the gallery door chimes. We’re uncoordinated in our efforts to straighten out our clothes and end up just standing there with our trousers around our ankles kind of lost in a euphoric haze. I turn to him with a silly grin plastered on my face and he returns the same look to me.

“Sorry about that.” He says out of the blue.

“Wh-what?” I ask foolishly.

“You have a big red mark on your face.”

“Shit. Must have happened when I hit the door.” I explain rubbing my cheek. It kind of stings, but geez, I think it was worth the pain.

“Does it hurt?” He asks lightly touching it. I just sigh and turn my face into his palm.

“Yeah, but it was worth it.” I say with a smile.

“Are you daft?” He accuses lovingly with a grin on his face.

“Nope, just blissfully happy... Nothing can hurt me now.” I say.

I bend over to pull up my boxers when there’s a rap on the door.

“John Paul?” A voice calls out.

I mouth Jared to Craig, “I’ll be out in a minute.” I call back.

I quickly turn the deadbolt on the door as the handle turns.

“Are you okay?” Jared asks through the door.

I practically have a coughing fit trying not to laugh out loud, answering back, “I’m fine. Be out in a minute.” I manage to pull up my coveralls and watch Craig as he tries to cover up the missing buttons on his shirt with his tie.

“Sorry about the shirt.” I offer sheepishly.

“It’s nothing. I’ve got another one.” He replies grinning still. “Come here.” He sighs reaching out his hand for mine. He pulls me into his arms. “Oh shit! Looks like I might have left a mark.” He says pressing lightly on the neck wound he made on me. “What are we gonna do?” He mutters sadly into my shoulder.

“About what?” I ask sinking deeper into his embrace.

“We can’t keep on like this.” He explains.

“Are you breaking up with me?” I ask in the tiniest voice I have.

“NO! Oh my God, no!” He says vehemently while tightening his grip on me. “How can you think that?”

“Then what are you freaking talking about?” I burst out.

“I could barely be away from you for 12 hours… I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to be with you…. Like all the time.” Craig complains.

“I need to be with you too.” I return nuzzling into his neck.

“John Paul!” Jared shouts through the door.

“I’m coming!” I shout back, which causes Craig to giggle. “Well, maybe not right this second.” I add on in a whisper.

We give each other the once over trying to smooth out rumpled clothes and mussed up hair before unlocking the door and heading out.

“About freaking time…” Jared begins, “…oh, Craig, didn’t know you were here.” He finishes with a knowing glint in his eye and a coy grin graces his lips.

“Jared. Good to see you again.” Craig greets him. “I…uh, better get back to work. We’ll talk later right?”

“Absolutely.” I agree giving him a quick kiss before he grabs his jacket to leave.

“Bye.” He says while sauntering to the door.

“Bye.” Jared and I say in unison.

“And here I thought you might want some company for lunch.” Jared says while smirking at me.

“Shut up.” I say with that same face splitting grin.


	14. Chapter 14

**John Paul**

“Aw, is that any way to talk to the guy who brought you food?” Jared complains clucking his tongue.

“Jared…” I start to apologize.

“No, no. I get it. You’re only nice to the guy who sticks his dick up your arse.” He jokes.

“Jared!” I shout embarrassed by his turn of phrase while he laughs.

“Come on. I brought food.” He says throwing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me over to the seating area.

“Why?” I ask.

“Oh cheers. Here I go and do something nice and this…” He starts to whinge.

“Jared!” I shout again to get his rambling to stop.

“Okay, I needed to talk to you about something.” Jared finally admits.

“There seems to be a lot of that going around today.” I say in response and sit down gingerly on the couch as he begins to unpack the bags.

“Let’s eat.” Jared dishes out the food and I watch him warily waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“All right… um… where to start?” He says nervously fiddling with his food.

“How about the beginning? What is this little palaver about?” I ask eyeing his nervous demeanor.

“I got a call from Kat the other night.” Jared blurts out, but still not looking at me.

“Right.” I encourage.

“And she wanted to get together.” He continues.

“Uh huh.” I fill in the silence.

“And I agreed to meet with her.” He admits.

“Jared.” I respond with a warning tone.

“Yeah, well I agreed to drinks with her tonight, JP.” He says finally looking at me.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask concerned.

“Yeah. I mean, I know she cheated on Craig, but, man, the way she makes me feel. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this before.” He confesses running his hands through his dark hair.

“Oh Jared.” I soothe.

“I know. It’s stupid.” He acknowledges sighing.

“Well, she is the only woman I’ve seen come out of your bedroom more than once.” I concede.

“I know. What’s that all about?” He asks with a slight smile.

“It means you like her.” I advise him.

“You think?” He questions.

“You’re so cute. My little boy is growing up.” I say teasing him.

“Shut up. What’s Craig gonna think though?” He asks concerned.

“I… I don’t know.” I admit nervously. “He was a bit upset about the break up, but I think he’s getting over it.” I say with a smile as I remember our coupling in the studio.

“Do you think he’ll be okay with it?” He asks.

“I’ve no idea. I don’t think we’ll be double dating any time soon, but weirder things have happened.” I answer. “Just go tonight and see how it goes before we worry about the long term.”

“Thanks, JP.” He says with an impish grin.

“No problem.” I respond digging into the food.

 

 

 **Craig**

I head back to my office smiling from ear to ear. I ignore Brian as he tries to make small talk and settle behind my desk to find that there are no messages, which just increases my already happy mood. I click open a file to work on when my mobile vibrates. I check the display and see it’s my mother, I click ignore and dive into the file on the desktop.

My office phone starts ringing now. I can’t really ignore that, it might be important. I answer the phone in my work voice. “Craig Dean’s office.”

“CRAIG AARON DEAN!!” Is the deafening roar coming out of the earpiece. I guess mum called the office.

“Mum?” I respond as calmly as I can.

“Yes, this is your mother. What the hell is going on down there? I have half a mind to hop on the next train and try to knock some sense into that addled brain of yours.” She hurls at me through the phone. I sigh as I realize I can’t avoid her now.

“Mum, what are you talking about?” I ask.

“Don’t play dumb with me. The whole village is buzzing about it.” She cryptically responds.

“Well, I don’t live in the village, so why don’t you just tell me.” I ask holding onto my composure.

“You and that McQueen boy going together again.” She complains. “It’s unseemly.”

“John Paul?” I ask dumbly.

“Yes, and after the ordeal his brother put you through.” She continues.

“Niall? Mum, you do know they are two different people.” I say in my relaxed tone.

“Craig…” She starts.

“Mum, I am not going to justify my choices to you.” I state firmly clenching the phone tightly in my hand.

“Everyone is talking about it. It’s disgraceful.” She protests.

“So? Who cares? Let them talk.” I keep up my false calm.

“But Craig, what about Katarina?” She asks. I had almost forgotten about her.

“Mum, calm down, I ran into John Paul last week, found out my girlfriend was cheating on me and things just took off from there. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m not going to let go of him now.” I explain peacefully.

“Craig, I don’t think this is such a good idea.” Mum presses on.

“Mum, I don’t really care what you think. This is my life and I’m choosing to live it the way I want.” I clarify.

“Love, what will people say?” She whines.

“Mum, I am a grown man. I make my own decisions. I don’t care what people think. I love John Paul and I’m going to be with John Paul and if people can’t deal with that then that’s too bad.” I say, my outer calm dissolving as I try to keep from shouting at her. We sit in silence for a moment.

“I just want you to think about it.” She says finally.

“I have been thinking about it. For 10 years I’ve been thinking about it. I am ready for this and I am doing this no matter what you say.” I say resolutely indicating the end of the discussion. “I really need to get back to work now.”

“Craig, just think about it.” She pleads one last time.

“No, you think about it.” I retort. “Bye Mum.” I say as I hang up.


	15. Chapter 15

**Epilogue:**

 **John Paul**

“You got everything?” I call out through the maze of boxes.

“Just need to grab one more thing.” I hear him call back and then a hand comes out and snatches my arm spinning me around and into a strong pair of arms.

Let’s just say it was anything but ordinary.

Craig is moving in today. I know it’s only been a few weeks and maybe we’re rushing into it, but it just feels right. Sometimes my mind wanders back to the last time we were in this position and what could have been, but I have to stop myself from dwelling on all the wasted time between us.

Life is what it is. Our decisions affect our future, but fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it has a way of putting us back on the right track.

I lean back into his arms pressing my head against his shoulder. “You ready?” He whispers in my ear.

“Absolutely.” I respond with certainty. I spin around in his arms to plant a kiss on his perfect bow shaped lips. “But are you ready?” I ask pressing my forehead against his.

“I’ve been ready.” Craig responds breathlessly then captures my lips in another kiss.

We break apart and he rubs his hands together. “I think this is everything.” He says surveying the room again. A look of distress comes over his face.

“What’s the matter?” I ask nervous of the answer.

“Nothing…” He says rubbing his neck, a dead giveaway that he’s lying. “…it’s just… I don’t feel anything for this place. It was never really home to me.” Craig turns to look at me. “It was a place to sleep… and… you are going to call me a sop.” He stops and a look of determination crosses his face. “But when I climb into bed with you tonight, then I’ll be home.”

I grin at him, “Of course I’ll call you a sop. But you’re my sop.” I say taking those few steps that separate us and taking him in my arms this time.

“Jerk.” He responds placing his chin on my shoulder.

“I feel the same way.” I say.

“At least we agree you’re a jerk.” He mumbles into my shoulder. I let go of him and step back.

“That’s not what I meant.” I respond indignantly.

“I know.” He says with the hint of a smile on his lips.

The flat buzzer goes off as the removal men have arrived. They get Craig’s stuff out of his flat in record time and soon we are headed to the gallery and the start of our life together.

Craig goes into director mode indicating which room each box belongs in and I realize Jared may have to make a few modifications to the loft to accommodate Craig’s incredibly large wardrobe and all his knick knacks.

After closing the door as the last box has been unloaded, exhaustion overtakes us after the past few days of packing. Craig and I lounge on the couch, stomachs growling, but too tired to move. I hear footsteps on the stairs and theatrically the door opens and Jared appears with carrier bags of take away.

“You two are a sad sight.” Jared greets us.

“Nice to see you too.” I mumble. Craig’s stomach rumbles loudly as the smell of the food wafts over us.

“What have you got?” Craig asks, his curiosity suddenly piqued.

“Ooh, lots of good stuff. Hope you like some spicy chicken.” Jared offers.

“Sounds perfect.” Craig responds.

We tuck into the food at once.

“Mmmm.” Jared hums.

“This is so good.” Craig states.

“Jared, you’re a star.” I admit.

We make fast work of the food and Craig cleans up the mess. We sit and chat for a bit as the sun sets low in the sky. I feel content with a full belly, my boyfriend and my friend all getting along. Jared makes his excuses shortly after, citing a prior engagement he promised a co-worker he’d attend.

Craig and I yawn and prepare for bed.

Slipping into bed that night, Craig slides into my arms and I whisper into his ear. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks.” He replies and I can feel his smile against my skin.


End file.
